Shoot Me Now: A Mother's Day Story
by writerchic16
Summary: Chandler tries to figure out how to bring Monica and her mother together on Mother’s Day; Ross realizes he has to do something nice for the mother of his child, Rachel, a little too late. Rating only for mild language. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Shoot Me Now: A Mother's Day Story

Summary: Chandler tries to figure out how to bring Monica and her mother together on Mother's Day; Rossrealizes he hasto do something nice for the mother of his child, Rachel, a little too late; Joey and Phoebe deal with their mothers

F.Y.I.: This is set before the season 9 finale (Emma has to be here).

A/N: I know I know, I should be working on my other Friends story, but I wanted to do one for Mother's Day next week. And, you know, I want to be able to give my mom something (I already bought her sneakers she wanted, but she told me to get them and currently wears them, so that doesn't really count, although she said it does). Basically, this is dedicated to my mom for inspiring me to write a Mother's Day story.

* * *

"No!

"Call her!"

"NO!"

"Do it!"

"I won't do it and you can't make me!"

"Come on, Mon, you have to."

"Give me one good reason."

"She's your mother."

"I said a _good_ reason."

"Monica!" Ross sighed, clearly exasperated, and let himself fall back into his sister's couch. It was the same thing every year. He would desperately try to convince Monica to at least _call_ their mother, but given their relationship, she would refuse. After a good, long argument, he would give in and call Mom for the both of them. _Mom has to be catching on by now. It's pretty unusual for someone to have to work on Mother's Day for a good number of years in a row. Ah, well, it's not like Monica cares anyway. Why should I?_ He knew why, though. Deep in his heart he knew that both he and Monica should not only be calling, but also spending the day with their mother. "I just don't get it. What is so hard about talking to Mom for five minutes? That's all you have to do!"

Monica stared at him, not perceiving why he couldn't understand. It's not like he didn't know how she felt about her mother. Calmly taking a deep breath, she started to rattle off her many explanations as to why she couldn't, or didn't want to, call her mother. "Number 1, it won't be 'five minutes'. Oh, no, not with my mother. I'll be all, 'Happy Mother's Day, Mom,' and she'll be like, 'Thanks…you know, I just wondering…why haven't you given me grandchildren yet?' And I'll say, 'We're trying,' but no, that won't be good enough for her – she'll have to know how often, and of course that won't be enough, so then she'll ask why we aren't trying more, and so on. Number 2, she'd much rather talk to you anyway, with you being 'the golden child' and all – "

Ross rolled his eyes. "Mon, I think I have the 'Ten Points on Why Monica Can't Call Mom on Mother's Day' pretty much down pat. Especially since I hear them year, after year, after year…" He cringed at the thought of how many hours he'd spent listening to his sister go on and on.

"Yes, but, see, this year is different. Chandler needs to hear them so he doesn't get the wrong idea and become a nag like you."

"Wait, how is this different? We were together last year on Mother's Day," Chandler quipped from his position on the easy chair.

"Yeah, but I forgot then. Oh, great, now I have to say them twice." Not wanting to sit down, Monica paced around her living room, her arms folded.

Chandler was worried about his wife. Even _he_ wasn't this resentful of his mother. And he had good reason to be. "Come on, how bad could calling your mom possibly be? It's not like she's a famous romance novelist and wears tops that show a _little_ too much cleavage."

"Your mom's not like other moms. She doesn't _know_ how much embarrassment she causes her child."

"Mon, you really believe that Mom tortures you on purpose?" Ross asked, one eyebrow raised. "She's so sweet."

"To _you_." Monica reminded him. "You're her perfect little boy who can never do anything wrong. I, on the other hand, am that other child she had who constantly disappoints her."

"Well, you've got a point there," Chandler said. "Last time she was here, she practically clawed your eyes out because you didn't call some relative. Uncle Lenny, was it?"

Ross looked down at his folded hands guiltily. _He_ was supposed to have called their uncle when Aunt Melinda died a few weeks ago. Again, Monica had been blamed for something he did. Not feeling the need to mention it, _ever_, he quickly said, "Fine, Mon, you win again. I'll call Mom for the both of us."

"Thank you." Relieved, Monica flopped down on the couch next to Ross. "You know, we could avoid this argument if you would just stop being so darn stubborn."

Choosing not to say something he would later regret, Ross pushed himself off the couch and started toward the door. "Ok, well, I'll see you guys later…"

After Ross left, Monica and Chandler sat in silence for a moment. Finally, unable to contain himself, Chandler asked, "So, let's say, _you_ stopped being stubborn. Would _we_ just stop arguing all together?"

"Shut up."

* * *

"Wow, Monica really hates her mother, doesn't she?" Joey asked. Hours later, all three of the guys, plus Phoebe, sat in their usual spots in Central Perk. Chandler and Ross and just finished relaying what happened earlier.

"Well, 'hate' might be a tiny bit strong. With regards to Monica and her mother, I'd have to go with resentful, evasive, neglected…" Chandler paused, thinking. "Actually, 'hate' hits the nail on the head."

"She should be grateful she has a mother to begin with." Phoebe said seriously. "I mean, I know I did eventually find my birthmother, but for the longest time I thought my mom had died in a tragic oven incident."

"I think that Monica wouldn't mind if Mom was involved in a 'tragic oven incident.'" Ross commented, equally serious.

"Now you're exaggerating," Chandler defended, then shrugged his shoulders. "No, wait, I'm wrong again."

"Hey, speaking of Mother's Day," Phoebe began, a sly smile on her face, "Ross, what are you doing for Rachel?"

As she expected, Ross' face paled. "What do you mean, Pheebs?"

"Yeah," Joey said, completely oblivious, "In case you didn't know, Rachel's not his mom. For one thing, she's way too hot to have given birth to Ross."

"And, you know, the fact that it's biologically impossible," Chandler added sarcastically.

"No, no," Phoebe said, shaking her head. "I meant, what are you doing for _Emma's mother, Rachel_."

The guys sat back on the couch, then gave a collective, "Ooooh." "Don't worry about that, Pheebs," Chandler said, "Ross wouldn't be stupid enough to forget that he has to get something for her. It's her first Mother's Day as a mom."

"Right," Joey boasted, "He probably has the whole day figured out."

"Um, guys?" Ross started timidly.

"Yeah. He's got breakfast in bed all planned…" Chandler began.

"Guys?"

Joey continued, "Then he's going to give her a giant bouquet of flowers…"

"Guys?"

"And he's going to tell her how much he loves that she's the mother of his child…"

"Guys?"

"And, for a grand finale," Joey said, "He's going to take care of Emma all day."

"Guys!"

"Aw, that's so sweet!" Phoebe squealed.

"GUYS!"

Joey, Chandler, and Phoebe turned to stare at him angrily, annoyed that they had been interrupted. "WHAT?"

"Um," Ross quieted his voice down, slightly intimidated, "I…uh…kind of…"

"Oh, no, don't tell us you didn't…" Chandler said slowly. When Ross' response was a simple nod of his head, Chandler shook his, full of pity. "You forgot to get something for Rachel for Mother's Day."

"Hey! It's not like we're together or anything! If we were, it'd be a totally different story," Ross protested.

"Yeah, 'cause, you know, if you were a couple, you _wouldn't_ have a child," Chandler countered wryly.

"I can't believe you forgot," Joey sighed. "According to my dad, there are three things a father is never supposed to forget –their anniversary, her birthday, and Mother's Day. You only have to remember one!"

Ross felt like smacking himself. "Well, in my defense - "

"What defense!" Phoebe almost yelled at him. "There _is_ no defense!"

"Yeah, dude," Joey added, "You're screwed."

"I completely agree." Chandler said, "And there's no way you can get out of it, either. It's Saturday already."

"Uh huh. The malls are gonna be packed. Mother's Day is like a mini Christmas. All the good stuff is gone," Joey supplied. Realizing that might seem random, he said, "I worked at the mall on Mother's Day weekend one year in between acting jobs. Trust me, it's not pretty."

Phoebe thought a minute. "Well, you could get her a gift certificate to the nearest tattoo parlor." When she got weird looks, she explained, "It's what I used to get my adoptive mom for Mother's Day."

"Anyways…" Chandler said, then reclined back on the couch. Noting that the space next to him was empty, he asked, confused, "Ok, how long has Ross _not_ been there?" When Phoebe and Joey indicated that they didn't know, he shrugged and took another sip of his coffee.

* * *

A/N: This is most likely only going to be two or three chapters long (famous last words). Mainly because it needs to be finished by next Sunday. Well, actually, by Thursday, 'cause Friday I'm taking my Advanced Placement U.S. History test and the SAT on that Saturday. I probably won't have enough brain power to write then. Alrighty then, read and review! (Oh, for those who are wondering, I _did_ make up Uncle Lenny and Aunt Melinda)

P.S.: Sorry for the rambling – I tend to do that.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

Wow! Six reviews in one day! _Is very flattered_ Thanks everyone!

rachgreengeller: Thanks for reviewing every one of my Friends stories! Also thanks for the compliments (and I will get around to "TOW the Kids Take a Road Trip" eventually)!

Exintaris: Wow, thanks for the long review! You're right, they should have done something like this on the show. I am making this story very much like an episode – it's going to be pretty short, and even has three plot lines (I guess I should have titled this with "TOW" in it. Ah well, I like this one). I _am_ going to have a scene where Monica confronts her mother (plot A), but it's going to go a little different than you might think.

Also many thanks to LucyGoose and Jayne Leigh, Melanie Geller (glad you like the title!), and DrKerryWeaver!

* * *

"You know what's really bothering me?" Chandler asked. It was getting late – almost ten at night. He knew he should be back in his apartment, but he had to talk to Joey about something first.

"What, that you keep talking when Baywatch is on?" Joey asked, irritated. "'cause it's annoying me."

"No…" Chandler responded, ignoring his best friend's tone. "It's this whole Monica thing."

Realizing he wasn't going to get to finish watching his favorite show in peace, he groaned as he unwillingly turned the TV off. Then, he turned the recliner around to face Chandler and leaned forward. "Chandler, there's nothing you can do about it."

"Why not?"

"Because this is a problem that has been around before you had even _met_ Monica. How are you supposed to fix a problem that you don't even know the root of?" Joey smirked as Chandler stared at him, astonished.

Chandler's face changed to one of comprehension. "You've been watching Dr. Phil again, haven't you?"

"Well, yeah, but he's right," Joey said firmly, "Monica and Mrs. Geller have to work this out on their own. You getting in the middle of it will probably only make things worse."

"I don't think it can _get_ any worse," Chandler replied. "If that's the case, the only way this can go is up, right?"

"Right," Joey agreed dryly. "Or, Monica can get so mad at you that she never talks to you again."

"Oh, come on, you don't think that that would really happen…" Chandler paused. He then shook his head. "No, I need to do something."

"Why? It's none of your business."

"Yes, it is. We're going to have a kid eventually. It has to have at least one normal grandmother," Chandler argued.

"Alright, you know what, fine." Joey threw up his hands in frustration. "You do what you gotta do. Meanwhile, _I_ will do what I have to do." When Chandler looked at him, puzzled, Joey swiveled his chair around and turned the TV back on. Baywatch was now showing the credits. "Damn it!"

Chuckling to himself, Chandler got up and took the phone off its receiver. Hearing the noise, Joey asked, out of pure curiosity, "What are you doing?"

"Calling Mrs. Geller," Chandler responded innocently.

"You're digging your own grave, man. Hang up while you still can." Joey pleaded. At first torn between watching the next episode of Baywatch that was coming on and helping his friend. Joey again ruefully switched off the TV and turned around.

"No, I'm going to settle this once and for all," Chandler said as he heard the rings through the phone.

Despite the situation, Joey asked, "You know your mother-in-law's phone number by heart?"

"We have caller id. She calls a lot," Chandler explained quickly. He shushed Joey as the line was picked up on the other end. "Hello, Mom?"

"Who is this?" There was a pause, then Mrs. Geller's groggy voice asked, "Chandler? Do you realize what time it is?"

"I know, I know, and I am sorry, but this is urgent. You see, ah," Chandler stopped a minute. _I did not think this through._ "We're having a little, um, Mother's Day get together at our apartment. Yeah, Joey's, Rachel's and Phoebe's mom will be there too." He ignored Joey, who was frantically mock-slashing his throat, trying to get Chandler to stop talking. "It would be great if you could come, too.

Silence came through the other line. Then, "Monica didn't tell me about this." She was perceptibly hurt.

"In all fairness, Ross didn't tell you about it either," Chandler bravely pointed out. "But Monica doesn't know about it."

"Isn't she cooking for it?"

"Uh…" Chandler stammered. "No, we're, um, getting a caterer. Since you never seem to like her cooking."

"What? That's ridiculous. She's an excellent cook. Of course, I could never tell her that." He could tell she had rolled her eyes as she said that.

"Why not?" Chandler asked, greatly surprised.

"If I did, she would just be satisfied by what she makes. She should strive to achieve perfection," Judy said, as if it should be obvious. "But I guess I won't be able to taste her food tomorrow."

"Oh, no, what I meant was that we're only partially ordering from a caterer. Most of the food will be made by Monica." He could see Joey shaking his head, knowing what trouble Chandler was going to be in.

"But you said that Monica didn't know about this."

Chandler wanted to shoot himself. "I, uh…_meant_ that she didn't know that you didn't know about it." He saw Joey give him a thumbs up sign. _Smooth._ "Yeah, she told Ross to invite you so she could spend more time preparing everything else."

"Oh," Judy said, confused. "I'll have to give him a call after we finish talking."

Chandler tried to keep in his laughter. "Yes, you will. So I will see you tomorrow at around…five?"

"Five? That's a little late for a 'Mother's Day get together,' isn't it?"

"Yeah, well, I wanted this to be different." In reality, he wanted to give Monica more time to cook. "Now you can have some of Monica's newest dinner entrees." Chandler sighed. This was getting better and better.

"Alright, then. See you tomorrow." He could hear the click on the other end. She had hung up.

Glad it was over, Chandler replaced the phone on the receiver. He muttered under his breath, "If I _live_ to see tomorrow."

"You are in so much trouble, dude," Joey laughed.

"Not if you help me," Chandler told him, a smile on his face.

Joey sighed, not really wanting to get involved. "Alright, I will. Just promise me one thing."

"What?"

Joey smiled. "I get to be there when you tell Monica about this."

* * *

The clock now read 12:00 AM. Joey and Chandler sat opposite each other, Chandler on the couch and Joey still on his recliner. "Yeah, and we would really like you to come." Joey was currently talking to Mrs. Green. Rachel was going to kill him.

A few minutes passed, then he turned the phone off. "Ok, that's the last of 'em."

"She's coming?" Chandler asked. When Joey nodded his head, Chandler crossed her name off the list he held in his hand. "I can't believe all our moms are able to come. Even mine."

"They were probably waiting for us to call them with plans for the day," Joey inferred. "Although I am surprised your mother was free."

"Yeah, apparently she was in New York anyway and didn't have any book signings tomorrow," Chandler explained. "The worst part was that she didn't even bother to tell me that she was here."

"Dude, we got way more important things to worry about. Like how we're going to tell the guys that their moms are coming." Joey said.

"Oh God I forgot about them," Chandler exclaimed, "What are we going to do?"

"Hey, this was your idea," Joey responded. "Don't expect me to think of everything."

"Yes, 'cause we all know that would be impossible!" Chandler retorted testily. He couldn't help it – he was tired and couldn't wait for this to be over. Sighing heavily, he rubbed his face with his hands and said, "Alright, alright. We'll tell everyone at the coffee house tomorrow morning."

"How about you tell Monica _now_?" The guys froze, then slowly turned to the front door. Monica was standing in the doorway, arms folded across her chest, dressed in her robe, pajamas, and fuzzy slippers. She looked very angry – probably since Chandler hadn't come home yet. "Because whatever it is,_ not _telling me now won't make it any better."

Joey suddenly got up from his recliner for the first time in a few hours. "You know what, I think I'm going to bed. Monica, see you tomorrow. Chandler, it was nice knowing ya." Forgetting the request he made earlier, Joey practically ran to his bedroom and shut the door behind him.

Monica stared at the spot where Joey had been, even more worried and confused than before. "Ok, Chandler, what's going on?"

"Ok, well, before I tell you this, you have to promise not to yell at me before I finish."

"Chandler, that is never a good way to begin an important conversation." Monica sat down across from him on Joey's recliner. "But, alright, I promise."

"Good." Chandler sighed, and started, "Now, don't be mad, but…I invited your mother over for dinner tomorrow."

Monica stared at him a second, then burst out laughing. "Wow, you really had me going there for a minute. Come on, what's the real bad news?"

Chandler groaned. "No, really, that's it."

Monica abruptly stopped laughing and smacked him upside the head. Then she shouted, "Why would you do such a thing! Do you not remember that conversation I had with Ross?"

"I know, but, " Chandler rubbed his head. He thought he felt a bump. "It really bothered me that you and your mother don't get along. I thought maybe you guys could talk things through."

Monica's expression softened, but not completely. "Chandler, that's sweet, but a whole evening alone with my mother? Are you nuts?"

Chandler attempted to smile. "See, I figured that, so I invited everyone else's mom too. They all should be here around six tomorrow night. But your mother will be here at five. That way, you can talk to her before they get here. If things don't go well, you can avoid her the rest of the night."

At that, Monica sat there, amazed at her husband's stupidity. Not able to contain herself, she smacked him on his arm more than a few times. "I. Cannot. Believe. You. Did. This! Now I have to get ready for an entire part by tomorrow night! You know it takes me a week to get ready for company! How am I supposed to set up an entire party in less that twenty-four hours?" She calmed down, then thought aloud, "Well, maybe it won't be so bad. I could always hire a caterer for the food."

Chandler's face blanched. "Uh, about that…"

"Oh, no…"

"Yeah, well, your mother told me how much she liked your cooking, so I told her that you were preparing most of the food…"

"You IDIOT!" With that, she smacked him again a few times, a little harder than before. Composing herself, she stood up, and stomped to the door. "_I_ am going to go to bed, since _I_ have to wake up early tomorrow. And, as I am going to lock up, I suggest you get comfy on that couch." She then stormed out of the apartment and slammed the door behind her.

Upon hearing the door bang shut, Joey poked his head out of his room, "So…?"

Massaging his hurting arms, Chandler replied honestly, "I think it went well."

* * *

"Morning, Ross," Chandler mumbled as he stretched and rolled off the couch. Then he did a double take. "Ross? What are you doing here?"

"Making breakfast." It was true. Ross had an apron on, and was at the moment using a spatula to cook the sausage that was in the frying pan. Another pan held simmering scrambled eggs, and bread was in the toaster.

"I see that." Chandler ambled over to a stool at the island and sat down. "I meant _why_ are you making breakfast. In our kitchen." Just noticing the delicious-looking bacon, he added, "Not that I'm not grateful."

"I'm doing what you guys said I should do. This is part one of 'Rachel's Special Mother's Day Surprise,'" Ross informed as he slid the bacon onto a waiting plate. "And since when did this become 'our kitchen'?"

"Since Monica kicked me out last night, as you can tell by the me-shaped indent on the couch," Chandler answered bitterly. Of course, there was also the twisted comforter and mashed-in pillow.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention that I got a certain call last night," Ross told him, not without annoyance. "I wasn't exactly sure what she was yelling at me for, seeing as it was around eleven when she called, but it was concerning a Mother's Day dinner? I would guess that that also has to do with you and Joey having a sleep over."

"Right…I need to tell you something."

"You don't say."

"Well, you see, I kind of, arranged a little dinner for all our moms. It was very short notice." _That's the understatement of the year,_ Chandler thought.

"Uh huh. And I take it my sister didn't like that very much."

"The reasoning behind this is that, if I force Monica to spend time with her mom, they'll talk out all of their problems."

Ross shook his head, full of pity. "Mon and Mom have spent plenty of time alone together. The only thing that happened is that by the time it ended, they wanted to kill each other even more than when it started. It's never going to work. Face it – Monica and Mom will never be the ideal mother and daughter."

"Says you," Chandler said defiantly. "But if I time this correctly, Monica and Mrs. Geller will be just like Lorelei and Rory Gilmore by the end of the night."

"You watch 'Gilmore Girls'?"

"It was on before 'Full House'. Which is not much better," Chandler mentally smacked himself for the millionth time that weekend. "I'm sorry, but can I help it if Michelle is so darn cute?"

Pretending he didn't just hear that, Ross asked, "Ok, you wanna bet on it?"

"On what?"

"Twenty bucks says that Monica and Mom are exactly the same by the time everyone goes home tonight," Ross offered.

"You're on."

"On for what?" Chandler and Ross turned their heads. Phoebe was standing in the front doorway. She was clearly a morning person. Her hair was done, her outfit matched, and she had an upbeat, but curious, look on her face.

Chandler stared at her, frustrated. "Can't two guys talk without being interrupted anymore?"

* * *

A/N: Yes, I know this story is slow moving, and yes, Rachel hasn't shown up yet. But you have to remember, this entire story is taking place in just one weekend, so I can't speed it up too much. As for Rachel, well, the next chapter will explain where she was last night. Oh, and _yes_, I now realize this story will most likely be five chapters in total. I can't write a short story to save my life. 


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: All reviews will now be responded to at thebottom of achapter.

* * *

"So exactly when are you going to wake Rachel up?" Phoebe asked. She was seated on the couch next to Joey, and empty plate in her lap. Ross had relented an hour ago and let them have some of "Rachel's" breakfast, since it was now almost noon and she hadn't woken up yet. Sure, Ross had tried to surprise her in bed. However, he had given up on that after ten minutes of poking her and almost screaming her name in her ear. They all figured she must have had a good time on her date last night. But then, as Joey so bluntly pointed out, why would she have come home?

"I'm not." Ross was angry, but not exactly sure who he should be angry at. True, he had gotten up early, bought the groceries, and made breakfast, but she hadn't known that the night before. At first he had been diligent in guarding the food, which was not easy with Joey around. But after he attempted to get Rachel up, and waited a half hour, everything was starting to dry out. If someone didn't eat it, he would have had to throw it in the garbage. "She obviously needs her beauty rest."

"Ooh, aren't you testy." Chandler commented. He decided not to say anymore when Ross glared at him.

"Excuse me, but whose idea was it to make breakfast in bed in the first place?" Ross snapped.

"Is it my fault that you can't pull off a surprise to save your life? No…"

Ross closed his eyes and counted to ten. "Ok then, what should I have done?"

"Thought of something original!" Chandler exclaimed. "Or even better, got something for Rachel from you _and _Emma. Like, when I was little, my dad knew how much my mom loved slutty romance novels. So, every year he would buy her a whole bunch and say they were from the both of us." He smiled at the memory, then frowned. "That actually explains a lot."

"I still say you should have went with the tattoo parlor gift certificate," Phoebe called. "It's not too late."

"I don't think it's _ever_ too late for that," Ross responded sincerely. "Joey, what did you used to do on Mother's Day?"

Joey soon got a grin on his face, nostalgic. "I would wake up early in the morning and get a fresh baked cannoli and chocolate éclair."

"Your mom must have had a pretty big sweet tooth," Phoebe said.

"Oh, no, those were for me," Joey corrected, still lost in reverie. "As I ate my cannoli, I would walk over to this authentic flower stand and get the freshest, biggest flowers I could buy. Those were for her. Then, when I started on the éclair, I would go over to the drug store and get her medication. I would be finished with both pastries by the time I got home. When I walked through the door, Ma would already have breakfast on the table."

Chandler, Ross, and Phoebe hesitated, not sure how to reply. On one had, the story was touching. On the other hand… Finally Chandler said, "I think that's sweet, Joe." The others hastily agreed.

"'Morning, guys," Rachel muttered as she stumbled through the doorway of her bedroom. Her hair was a mess, her clothes were wrinkled, and it was clear that she hadn't even thought about makeup yet. Suddenly noticing that she was in the presence of her friends, and how horrible she looked, she yelped, "Be right back." With that, she ran back into her bedroom and shut the door.

"_She_ had fun last night," Chandler joked.

"Yeah, great," Ross bent down and reached under the cabinet. Upon coming up, he held a beautiful bouquet of lilies in a large, light purple vase. "I hope she'll be awake enough to appreciate these."

"Is that, dare I say it, _jealousy_ in your tone?" Chandler said, incredulous, "Because may I remind you, it shouldn't be there."

"I know, I know," Ross sighed. "It's just…she's the mother of my child."

"But not your wife."

"Yeah. I guess it's hard for me to remember that sometimes." Right then, Rachel came out of her bedroom, dressed in casual jeans and a t-shirt. Her hair was combed straight, and her makeup was applied perfectly. Yet, she appeared to be a little woozy, and lost her footing a few times on her way across the living room. "Especially when she looks like that," Ross breathed, completely oblivious to the fact that she was hung over.

"Easy, man," Chandler whispered. In a louder voice, he greeted, "'Afternoon, Rach." Joey, Phoebe, and Ross echoed him with their hellos.

"Hey everyone." Rachel unsteadily went over to the counter. She attempted to get on a stool, but kept sliding off. Finally, Chandler had to grab her arm and help her up. "Whoops, I must be feeling the after effects of all that champagne last night."

"You think?" Chandler joked. To Ross, he suggested, "Maybe you should get her some aspirin and a glass of water along with her breakfast."

"Good idea." As Ross opened one of the top cabinets, he asked, trying to sound nonchalant, "So, Rach, I guess you had a great time on your date."

Rachel shook her head, then instantly regretted doing so as it started to throb. "No, it was the opposite. The guy was a total snooze fest. I kept drinking so that I would have something to do."

"You have to give him some credit," Joey observed. "He could have taken advantage and brought you back to his apartment." Aware that the others were staring at him, he added, "Not that I ever have, or ever will do that."

"Yeah…" Rachel agreed slowly. She then gulped down the aspirin and water that Ross had handed to her, then noticed her surroundings a little better. "What's this? You guys had breakfast without me?"

"Ok, Rachel, sweetie," Phoebe answered, "It's after twelve. We're only human."

"It's alright, it's alright," Rachel examined the various pots and pans, frowning, "As long as you saved me some."

"Oh, believe me, we tried," Chandler said, glaring at Joey, "but _someone_ had to have his ten pancakes."

"What are you looking at me for?" Joey exclaimed, quickly shoving his syrup covered plate under his recliner. "I only had five! I counted them myself."

"And I rest my case," Chandler smiled smugly.

Ross sighed loudly. "Rachel, this was supposed to be a Mother's Day surprise for you. I was going to bring it to you in bed, but you wouldn't wake up. Although, on the bright side…" Ross beamed as he slid the lilies out from the corner of the counter. "I still have these."

Rachel gasped. "Aw, honey, that's so sweet!" She then gave him a big hug across the counter top. Upon sitting down, she began examining the large bouquet. "I love them! I just can't believe you remembered to get me something for Mother's Day. I wasn't expecting this at all. And I am very sorry I ruined breakfast."

Ross sent the others a warning fierce look as he hugged Rachel again. "It's ok, sweetie. How 'bout we go out to breakfast. My treat."

"That sounds great – I am so starving. Let me get my purse." Separating from Ross, Rachel trekked across the floor toward her bedroom, albeit a little better this time.

"Don't _you_ feel like crap," Chandler smirked.

Ross grinned back at him. "At least _I'm_ not the one that's going to tell her that she has to spend the whole evening with her mother."

"Yeah. I'm still shocked that you were stupid enough to do that, Chandler. You're lucky I actually like spending time with my mom. Otherwise you would be on the receiving end of a serious butt-kicking," Phoebe sincerely meant that. She loved having a mom again, and regretted not spending much time with her. The only thing was that she would have to go back to her apartment in a few minutes to make her mom's present. Phoebe thought she would enjoy her very own tape of Phoebe singing, and playing, her smash hit _Smelly Cat_. Oh, and she also meant that butt-kicking part too.

"Who's getting his butt kicked?" Rachel asked upon reentering the living room, her purse in hand.

"Oh, no one," Chandler replied, getting an idea. "We were just talking about how Ross was going to tell you something over breakfast. Weren't we, guys?"

"Yeah, absolutely," Phoebe and Joey instantly supported him, glad they didn't have to do it.

Ross stood there, momentarily wondering how that just happened. Shooting a glare once again at his three friends, which lucidly expressed his desire to kill them, he hooked his arm into Rachel's. "Come on, honey."

Rachel tried to pull from Ross' surprisingly tight grip. "Wait, I have to get my coat."

"You don't need it. Let's go." As Ross went to open the door, Rachel still on his arm, it swung in, hitting him on the head. "Ow! Monica! Don't you ever knock?"

"You're such a wimp." Monica rolled her eyes as she stormed into the apartment. When she got far enough into the kitchen, Ross and Rachel went out the door behind her, luckily unnoticed. "Ok, There's going to be a party in my apartment - "

"Don't you mean _our_ apartment, honey?" Chandler asked timidly.

"Yeah. Whatever. Anyway, a party is taking place in _our_ apartment in exactly four and a half hours. That only less than five hours to clean the apartment, decorate it, and make enough food to feed eleven people. Phoebe, I'm sending you to Party City - " Monica groaned as she was once again cut off.

"Oh, wait, Monica, I wish I could help, I really could, but…" Phoebe was lying through her teeth, but fortunately she had become an expert liar over the years. "See, I need to go home and make a present for my mom. I can't just show up empty handed." She leaped off the couch and skidded around an angry Monica on her way out the door."

Giving up on Phoebe, Monica started again. "Alright then, that means Joey - "

Taking advantage of the opportune time, Joey also got off the couch. "Hey Pheebs, wait up!" He gave Monica the best apologetic smile he could come up with, "My mom has been very forgiving towards me over the years. But if I don't have a present for her, she will never cook for me again!" Suddenly terrified at the thought, he ran out the door after Phoebe, shouting, "Pheebs, you know where the nearest flower store is?"

Chandler looked around the apartment, horrified. He and Monica were the only ones in it. Thinking of what the next few hours would be like if he stayed, he almost fell off his stool in his effort to get away. "Yeah, um, I'm just gonna go back to out apartment, change, and get – "

Monica planted her hands on his shoulders and forced him back into his seat. "Hold it, mister! You are not going _anywhere_ until I get to finish a sentence!"

Seeing no other option, Chandler stayed put and listened as Monica rattled off what needed to be done, at the same time thinking about how he was stuck with her for the rest of his life.

* * *

A/N: Yeah, it is kind of short and uneventful, but I need this to be a transition chapter from the night before to the party. Hopefully it was still enjoyable.

WARNING: Extremely long review response to follow. I suggest that those who reviewed scroll down until they see their name. As for those who didn't review, well, have a nice day.

Another nine reviews? You like me, you really like me! None of my stories have ever been this successful _does happy dance_ Ok, I'll stop now.

Rachgreengeller: Glad you think so – I'm trying to make this as funny as I possibly can. Ironically, there aren't enough humor fics in this section. And don't worry, I'll get to the other one as soon as I finish this and my other story (ok, that might be a little while, but I'll get there. No, really!).

Exintaris: Ok, one thing I gotta know – what exactly is "1,8"? I'm sorry if it should be obvious, but I can't figure it out. I'm happy I made you laugh out loud – I know it's very hard to make someone (like me) actually laugh through writing. I doubt you'll laugh as much in this chapter, since it's not really supposed to be _that _funny, but I hope you laugh at least a few times.

Jayne Leigh: He he, I like that one too. Another line I considered later was "We have _got_ to start locking that door," but then I remembered that Ross already said it in a _much_ earlier episode. So that other line will have to do (that is the line you meant, right? Otherwise I just sounded like a complete idiot. Oh well, what else is new).

Shanima: I looked at you're profile and saw that you have a Neopets account. I used to love Neopets! However, I got bored of it and gave my account to someone else. Anyway, Chandler is my favorite character. It's way fun to write him. And it's very easy for me since I'm naturally sarcastic. In a good way (mostly), if that's possible.

Miss-Bing: Thanks!

LucyGoose: That was one of my favorite lines! I had hoped that someone would mention it! Thanks!

DrKerryWeaver: Heh, I never watched Dr. Phil myself, but I thought it would be appropriate.

miss jasadin: You're the second person (no, wait, third) who said that they liked how I did Chandler. I must be really good at being sarcastic. What can I say – it's a gift.

Fttudsj: Interesting username. Anyway, yeah, I am going to finish this in time for Mother's Day (_crosses fingers_). Glad you thought it was funny!

Whew, that was long. Maybe I'll try to consolidate next time (how come I can think of big words when I'm writing a fanfic, but not when writing a practice SAT essay?)…


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 

A/N: Ok, so this wasn't finished by Thursday. Surprise, surprise.

* * *

"And that, Chandler Bing, is the proper way to fold a napkin." Monica smiled satisfactorily, gazing down at her handiwork. The cloth napkin that Chandler had simply folded in half moments before was now the shape of a beautiful Origami figure. Sure, it had taken her over ten minutes to complete, but the finished product had been worth it. _Let's see how you can criticize _this_, Mom_, she thought gleefully.

"Cooche cooche coo, Emma!" Chandler said in a pacifying, baby voice, his head over Emma's carrier, which was stationed on the kitchen table. He then pulled his ears outwards and tried his hardest to look like a monkey. Apparently it worked – he thought she giggled pretty hard for a baby. Realizing his wife was talking to him, he poked his head up and asked, "I'm sorry, what?

Monica sighed in aggravation. It had been like this for the past four hours. She would attempt to get Chandler to do something useful, but he would wind up playing with the baby, watching a show that he "had to see" on TV, distracted by a speck of dust on the wall…Deciding that she could always give him napkin folding lessons later, she replied, "Never mind. I can't believe Rachel just left Emma and not even checking with us!"

"Well, to be fair, Rachel _was_ a little hung over, and Ross had his own problems…" Sensing he should stop from the way his wife looked at him, he quickly said, "To hell with fairness - how dare they do this to us!"

Monica couldn't help grinning. Chandler always knew how to cheer her up when she was stressed. "I thought so. Now, I'm going to go take a nap. The food's in the oven – don't you even think about touching it. Wake me up in about fifteen minutes. The last thing I want is Mom walking in when I'm taking some down time."

Chandler saluted. "Yes, ma'am. Any other commands?"

"Yeah." To his surprise, Monica gave him a passionate kiss. "Work on that monkey face. It's very cute."

"You betcha." Chandler waited until Monica has closed the door to their bedroom. He then immediately started making as many monkey faces as he could, and not just for Emma.

* * *

Chandler's face was beginning to hurt from constantly being pulled in a dozen different directions. But he didn't really mind. Emma's cheeks were beet red from giggling so much, and he knew that Monica would appreciate his efforts later that night. He was about to resume practicing when the doorbell rang.

His head popped up, petrified. _No, it couldn't be…_ Frantically he glanced at the clock…and groaned. He was supposed to have woken Monica up ten minutes ago. He stood still for a moment, trying to decide what he should do first – get Monica up or answer the door. Figuring that it would not be the best thing to keep Mrs. Geller waiting, he ran to open the door. "Hi, Mom," Chandler greeted, plastering a non-panicky smile on his face.

"Hello Chandler," Mrs. Geller gushed, enveloping in a big hug. She walked in and began to take off her coat.

"Oh, let me get that for you."

"Thank you, dear. Now where's Monica?" She looked around the apartment, thinking maybe she missed her.

"Oh, uh," Chandler paused, coming up with an excuse – something he was getting used to. "She's getting changed. I'll go tell her you're here." Not waiting for a response, he dashed into the bedroom, Mrs. Geller's coat still in hand. Entering his bedroom and closing the door behind him, he whispered, "Monica?"

There was no reply. He hurried to the side of the bed, kneeling down as he draped the coat over the foot of it. "Mon?" he asked, this time a little louder. Knowing that he didn't have much time, he started shaking her and saying her name in her ear.

Finally, Monica's eyes half-opened. "Huh?"

"Honey, sweetie, you have to get up. You're mother's here."

"What?" Monica's eyes shot up the rest of the way as she leaned forward to check the clock. She then restrained herself from killing her husband. "Chandler! You were supposed to wake me fifteen minutes ago!" She jumped out of bed and ran to her closet, picking out the nicest thing she could in five seconds. "Go keep Mom busy while I get dressed. What did you tell her I was doing?"

"Getting dressed." Grasping that that didn't give Monica much time, he rushed out into the living room before she could yell at him again.

* * *

Chandler slowed to a saunter as he went up to Mrs. Geller. "Yeah, she'll be out in a few minutes."

"What's taking so long?" Mrs. Geller questioned. "A host should not keep her guest waiting."

"Yeah, uh," Chandler stammered, "She couldn't decided whether to wear her blue top or white one. I told her to wear the white."

Mrs. Geller stared at him, perplexed. "Didn't your mother teach you anything? It's not proper to wear white before Memorial Day. She should have known."

Chandler laughed nervously. "Actually, my father told me that. Must have slipped my mind. I'll go tell her to wear the blue one." He ran back to the bedroom, then faint bickering could be heard. After a few seconds, both of them emerged, Monica wearing her black pants and only suitable blue top. Much to his relief, Chandler noticed that they looked nice together, since he had on his khaki slacks, white shirt, and blue sweater vest.

"Now, isn't that better?" Mrs. Geller asked as she hugged and kissed her daughter on the cheek. "Really, Monica, what were you thinking?"

"I don't know, Mom," Monica said through clenched teeth. "I guess I was in a rush."

"That's another thing. Haven't I always told you to be readily waiting at the front door at least a half hour before guests are due to arrive? Honestly, it's like you're getting senile."

"Thanks, Mom," Monica's fake smile grew even wider than before. Thinking of something to change the topic, she asked casually, "So, how was the drive?"

"Long," Mrs. Geller sighed, "I'm so used to your father driving me. I think I got lost twice. You know, his feelings were a little hurt when he found out that you didn't invite him. He always loves your cooking so much. I can't see why, but he does."

Monica suddenly felt the urge to wrap her hands around her mother's neck and….Shaking her head to clear it of such thoughts, she explained, "It's a _Mother's_ Day dinner, Mom. Besides, I can always make up a doggy bag for you to take home to Dad."

"That would be lovely."

Glimpsing the opportunity to get Monica and her mother to start talking, Chandler spoke up, "Not that this isn't the best darn small talk ever, but I really have to go over to Joey and Rachel's to see why they're not here yet." In reality, he had told them to come at six, along with everyone else, so that Monica and her mother could have a long time to talk. But the two of them didn't have to know that. "Be right back."

Monica gave him the evil eye. "Chandler, I'm sure they'll be here any minute. Sit down."

Chandler inched backwards toward the door. "No, I'm sure Mom would agree that it's 'not proper' for guests to arrive late. _Be right back_." Ignoring Monica's objections, he slipped out the door, closing it firmly behind him.

"Mom, I think I'll go with him. He gets distracted easily." She went over to the door and tried to open it. She was surprised to find that it was locked. When she saw that her mother was staring at her, curious, she laughed nervously, much the same way Chandler had before. "You know what a kidder Chandler his. He probably thought this would be funny. No problem, though. I'll get my key." Monica got her purse from the counter and thoroughly searched it. Her key, nor her spare one, was in there. More to herself, she muttered, "Chandler, when you get back here, your butt is mine. And not in a good way."

"Excuse me?" Mrs. Geller asked, then decided that she didn't want to know. "Monica, what's going on? Why would Chandler play a practical joke at a time like this?"

"He's Chandler. Trying to be funny at the wrong place at the wrong time is what he does." Realizing something, she hurried over to her bedroom. Sure enough, it was locked too. She then checked all the other doors in the apartment. The only door that wasn't locked was the bathroom, and she couldn't stay in there for more than five minutes. Well, maybe ten, if she pushed it.

Then she got what he was doing. His words from yesterday came back to her. _"It really bothered me that you and your mother don't get along. I thought maybe you guys could talk things through."_ Monica groaned and pressed her back flat against the bathroom door. This was his way of making sure they talked.

"Sweetie, is something wrong?" Mrs. Geller began walking over to Monica, concerned.

Peeling herself off the bathroom door, she walked back into the kitchen, followed by her mother. "No, nothing's wrong. You're right – this is just one of Chandler's little practical jokes. He does this all the time." The only difference now was that she didn't feel like laughing. Wanting something to do to distract her, she began to sauté the green beans for the casserole that would go along with the chicken marsala. She had originally planned to do them a few minutes before she put dinner on the table, but there was no time like the present. _Besides_, Monica consoled herself, _everyone else will be here soon. There's no way he can keep them out in the hallway for long._

"This really is inappropriate of Chandler," Mrs. Geller disapproved. "Locking us into the apartment like this? He's lucky we don't call the police. Really, I would think that you've told him how to act around company after almost a year of marriage."

That did it. Knowing she wasn't going to get to them for at least another half hour, she pushed the green beans farther into the counter. She turned around to face her mother, who, upon seeing the look her daughter wore, backed up a few steps. Monica said slowly, "_No one_ talks about my husband that way. Not even you."

* * *

A/N: We're almost finished! The next chapter I'm putting up is the last one, I swear! Not that you will be happy about it (I hope); I'm happy that I'm going to finish this on time for Mother's Day. Yippee! Did I just say "yippee"?

Reader Responses:

TEN reviews for one chapter! Wow!

Exintaris: Oh, duh. smacks self in head You're right about the review thing (that it would be a lot of work), so I am trying out my new consolidation techniques in this chapter.

. (Anonymous): Yes, but he also loves her very much and wants her to be happy. Monica would be happy if she was reconciled with her mother (see the connection?). It doesn't matter, really – that's why they call it fanfiction.

mam: Wow, that was really long…Anyway, yeah, about that review, see my response to Exintaris. I only respond when there's stuff to respond to. It just so happened that everyone's review was interesting. Thanks for the compliments, and definitely review my other story! As for the grammar thing, yeah, it bugs me a lot, but I think I would insult people if I personally emailed them about how bad their grammar is (no offense). Maybe something non-rude in a review response, but I think an email would be a little over the top. You can do whatever you want to do, but I'm just sayin.'

Chan4Mon4EVA4EVA: In America, Mother's Day is the first Sunday in May. You can pretend it's in March, though. I don't think it makes a difference. Glad you liked it! (I like your word, "confuzzled." I think I might start using it)

I loved it that so many people like how I portray the characters and feel like they're watching "Friends"! That's the BEST compliment! I guess watching "Friends" all the time finally paid off.

Special thanks to rachgreengeller (as always), Jayne Leigh, Meredith Sans, americnxidiot, LucyGoose, and DrKerryWeaver!


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

A/N: I took the SATs and lived to tell about it! Woohoo! Now all I gotta do is wait for the results _cringes_. That math section was killer.

* * *

"_You locked Monica and Mrs. Geller in an apartment together?_" Rachel repeated, incredulous. It had been a few minutes since Chandler came in, very relaxed. She and Joey wouldn't have known that something was up had he not told them. "Oh My God Chandler! You do know that's against the law, right?" Sitting next to him on the couch, she could undoubtedly see Chandler's face rapidly change from that of self-satisfaction to one of shock. 

"It is?" Chandler asked nervously, little beads of sweat starting to form on his forehead.

Rachel paused, thinking. "Honestly, I don't know. But it sounds like it could be! What if they call the police on you?"

"Oh, come on, you don't think they would do that…" Chandler glanced from Rachel to Joey, unfortunately not finding any reassurance.

"I don't think _they'll_ call the police." Joey said seriously. "But we might if Monica kills her mother. Or vice versa."

Chandler picked his head up from his hands, interested. "You think Mrs. Geller would kill Monica?"

"Oh, definitely," Rachel answered. "She may not seem like it, but remember, I grew up with Monica. If Mon was in five minutes after curfew…" Rachel just shook her head sadly at the many memories.

"Oh My God! I have to save Monica!" Chandler leaped off the couch and ran to the door, pulling keys out his pocket as he went. "Ok, bedroom, guest bedroom, patio…damn it where's the front door key?" He skidded to a halt and began frantically searching the floor. Finding the key near the foosball table, he started to run again.

"Chandler!" Rachel grabbed his arm before he could bolt through the doorway. "I was _kidding_! Do you really think Mrs. Geller would kill her only daughter? Sheesh!"

Chandler straightened up and tried to explain himself. "I don't know, it's just that I know how she can get sometimes…"

"Dude, I can't believe you thought that." Joey laughed as he shook his head. "Bruise her a little bit, but _kill_? Come on now."

"I guess so…." Beginning to relax, he went over and sat back down on the couch. Rachel and Joey followed, resuming their positions from before. "Should I let them out? Maybe you and Ross were right, Joe. Maybe this was a bad idea."

"Hell yeah it was a bad idea!" Joey exclaimed. "But you can't go in there now! You won't ever come out!"

"Yeah," Rachel added. "I've dealt with their arguments before. All you gotta do is let them scream it out, then go in after they've had a few moments of tense silence."

The three of them stayed quiet for a couple of minutes. When nothing could be heard, Joey and Chandler looked at Rachel suggestively.

"Don't worry. It'll come."

* * *

Meanwhile… 

Mrs. Geller stepped back, shocked and greatly unnerved by the murderous tint to her daughter's glare. "E-excuse me?" She was surprised at herself. She never stammered like that…unless she was really nervous.

"You heard me." Monica said loudly, excitement growing in her heart. This was it. Over thirty years of rage were about to be let loose. And she knew that once she started, there would be no way to stop. "_No one_ talks about _my_ Chandler that way. I, well, he, invites you into our home, and all you do is criticize everyone and everything. This happens every damn time you come over, and, frankly, I'm sick of it."

The older woman stood in the corner of the kitchen, stunned by her daughter's rare outburst. "Honey, you really think I'm criticizing?"

Monica barely kept herself from laughing at her. "No _duh_! You've tortured me ever since I was a kid! When I was getting fat, you constantly reminded me to watch what I ate. When I was single, every single time I saw you there would be another comment on how I was never going to get married! When I was unemployed, you sent me copies of that day's classifieds section! Always always always…all the times I was down, you would be there to kick me _further_ down. So, _yes_, I do think you're criticizing." She leaned against the counter, needing to catch her breath. She wasn't used to yelling so much, and she lived with Chandler.

"I had no idea you felt that way…" Mrs. Geller's mouth hung open. She wanted to comfort her daughter, but her feet remained glued to the floor. "I just care about you so much that - "

"_Care about me!"_ Monica screamed, instantly recovering from her momentary breathlessness. "You don't care about me! You never have! I'm just one big failure to you! Every little thing I do – you don't care! All you can see is all the wrong choices I've made in my life!"

"Please, Monica, don't be silly!" Mrs. Geller responded, her voice rising a few decibels. "I'm very proud of you! You're the best daughter a mother could hope for!"

"That's BULL!" Monica shouted, knowing that the entire building heard it. "_What_ are you proud of? That there are so many things about me that you can insult?"

Mrs. Geller was getting tired of this. "Stop this right now, Monica! Of course I am proud of you! Why shouldn't I be? You're a successful chef and a loving wife. There are so many things that I love about you."

Weary from so much yelling, Monica sagged her shoulders and leaned back against the counter once again. Looking straight into her mother's eyes for the first time in a long while, Monica asked solemnly, "Then why don't you ever say it?"

* * *

"Monica, this chicken is amazing," Nora Bing complimented. Two hours ago, Chandler had interrupted their fight by announcing that his mother, as well as Joey's mother, was here. That had abruptly cut short any bickering, and Monica had turned into the ultimate hostess, dismissing any hurt feelings remnant of the fight she had been having minutes before. Shortly after, the rest of the guests started to arrive, and before long the party was in full swing. Monica and her mother hadn't spoken since the doorbell rang. 

"You really think so?" Monica blushed, hoping she at least looked embarrassed. She wasn't one to be modest.

"Oh, definitely. It's even better than the chicken I had on a date the other night." Chandler's wince could be noticed from the other end of the table, knowing what was soon to follow. Still, he chose to remain silent as his mother continued. "Of course, I don't remember exactly what it tasted like. The sex that night was so good that everything before it kind of faded into the background."

Complete silence followed. Chandler hung his head in complete and utter humiliation, not for the first time. The quiet was broken when Gloria Tribbiani spoke something in Italian, which Chandler couldn't comprehend.

Yet he could tell that by the look on Joey's face, it wasn't good. Joey immediately changed his countenance, thinking no one else noticed, and translated, almost forcefully, "She, uh, said that she, ah, likes your earrings." When the others glanced at him, confused, he shrugged, "She doesn't understand English too well."

Content with that answer, they resumed eating. However, Chandler could tell that his best friend was lying. When no one was watching, he leaned sideways in his seat, since Joey was right next to him, and whispered, "What did your mother really say?"

Joey hesitated before explaining, "She called your mom a slut."

Chandler was about to protest, but shrugged instead. "Yeah, I figured."

* * *

Somehow the guests managed to get through the dinner without incident. The girls began clearing the table, after vehemently refusing assistance (from their mothers; with the guys, it was a different story). Not having anything else to do, Phoebe Sr., Nora, Judy, Gloria, and Sandra did what everyone does when bored at a party – mingle. 

"So, Nora," Sandra Green began, a little nervous. She had never met the woman before, but, judging from what happened at dinner, she was a very interesting person, if not a bit intimidating. She gave herself a few seconds to think whilst she filled her cup to the brim with punch from the bowl on the table in front of her. Nora was also at the rectangular table, selecting various desserts to put on the paper cake plate in front of her. Suddenly realizing that the woman hadn't noticed her, Sandra cleared her throat and tried to say the most meaningful thing she could come up with. "I like that top, but it looks a tad uncomfortable," she commented, referring to the borderline inappropriate, _very _low cut pale blue top Nora was .

"It was at first," Nora admitted, adjusting it as she spoke. "But after you've worn it a couple of times, it really stretches. The wonder of cotton," Nora explained with a short laugh.

Sandra laughed too, only to be polite. Truth be told, she never would have picked out that top in a million years. It was a little too revealing for her, but she was quickly discovering that she and Nora Bing were too completely different people. Still, she couldn't help asking, "You wear it often?

"It really attracts the hunks," Nora replied, as if it should be obvious. "It's gotten me quite a few dates. Last week, I wore it to the supermarket. I had about ten guys' phone numbers by the time I got to the check out line."

Sandra paused, feeling as if she should criticize the woman for her behavior. Then she thought about how long it's been since she went out on a date. "Do you happen to remember where you got that? And if they had it in a medium?"

* * *

A/N: Just a little light humor before the blow out. Nora Bing is so much fun to write (in case you were wondering why she's in here so much). She so different from the other mothers that it's fun to see how they would interact. 

And, yes, I will get to the end eventually. I'm very very sorry that this was not done in time for Mother's Day, but hopefully you still want to keep reading. This is Part One of the end – I was originally going to make this the last chapter, but I didn't want it to get too long, which is what was happening. And I _will_ get the last chapter up by the end of the week.

**Review Responses**

ELEVEN reviews! For ONE chapter? This is going to take some getting used to!

Rachel: An update in five minutes? I only wish I could type that fast! Thanks for the compliment!

Lucy Goose: It probably helps that I used to watch Friends A LOT. And that I've probably seen every episode. Thanks!

Mam: Definitely good to know. Oh, and I liked that line too (I SO love being sarcastic). Thanks!

Exintaris: _shields self from Exintaris_ Ok, ok, I promise you'll like it! (That little fight they had in this chapter was NOT the end. Just so you know.)

MinnieLover: Yeah, SATs suck. (see A/N at top of chapter). How did you do (presuming you took it on Saturday)?

Also many thanks to _takes deep breath_ Jayne Leigh (how did you review two hours after I posted the chapter? It wasn't even on the site yet! Lol), rachgreengeller, miss jasadin, LilMondlerLuver , Chan4Mon4EVA4EVA, and DrKerryWeaver

A lot of you mentioned how you liked that Monica talked back to her mother. Well, you probably REALLY liked this chapter – it had a whole section of that. And there will probably be more to come when the finally battle it out!


	6. The End

**Chapter 6 **

"Do you think she'll stop anytime soon?" Phoebe screamed to Joey, her hands over ears. She was referring to the fight her mother, Phoebe Sr., and Gloria had gotten into. It had had been surprising, to say the least, that Phoebe's mom spoke fluent Italian. And understood every word of the insult Gloria had directed at her.

"'_She'll_'?" Joey exclaimed, his palms also pressed against his ears. "It's your mom too!"

Pretending she didn't hear him, she asked another question. "What exactly did Mrs. Tribbiani say?"

"Something about your mom being an airhead," he responded. He and Phoebe waited out the fight, she curled up on the easy chair, he near her end on the couch. Gloria was sitting next to him, but looked as if she was ready to jump out of her seat any minute now. Phoebe Sr. sat at the edge of the coffee table (much to Monica's chagrin) facing the older woman.

Finally, Phoebe Sr. shouted a word in Italian and stalked off to the kitchen. Dying to know what it meant, Phoebe glanced over at Joey, her question written on her face. Joey simply shook his head as he reassured her, "Trust me Pheebs, you don't wanna know."

"What was that all about?" Judy Geller asked. She walked over to the group and sat on one of the folding chairs Monica had set out, since the living room had limited seating. Sandra, who she had been talking to, also did the same.

"Apparently my mom and Mrs. Tribbiani don't get along too well," Phoebe explained, a little unsure herself.

Suddenly, Mrs. Tribbiani spoke a few sentences. Joey replied to her in Italian, a bit uneasily. Then she got up and started walking over to the bathroom. Smiling proudly at the others, Joey proclaimed, "_That_ I know how to say."

The other three laughed, and soon they were deep in conversation. Phoebe was explaining about her job. "It's so rewarding being a masseuse. Especially when the guy is really hot and you 'accidentally' let your hands slide down a _little_ to far - "

"So I heard that Monica got a new job?" Sandra asked Judy, wanting to cut Phoebe off before she could get any more explicit.

"Oh, yes," Judy affirmed, her wide grin showing her delight in getting to brag about her daughter. "It's _head_ chef at Javo. They certainly made the right choice in hiring Monica. She works so hard, not to mention her food is _marvelous_."

Standing within hearing distance at the drink table, Monica froze, not believing what she was listening to. Her mother was actually _bragging_ about her. _Her_ mother. Bragging. About _Her_. This is the same woman who has never paid her a compliment all her life. Regaining the ability to move, Monica put her cup back on the table, went over, and tapped her mother on the shoulder. She wasn't leaving until she explained herself. "Uh, Mom? Can I talk to you in the bedroom for a minute?"

* * *

As she watched her daughter shut the door to the guest bedroom, which she had been almost dragged into, Judy Geller demanded impatiently, "What's this all about, Monica? Do you wish to continue the conversation we were having earlier?"

Monica sighed heavily as she turned around, summoning whatever patience was inside her. "No, actually, I wanted to talk you about…what you were just saying to everyone out there."

"Why do you want to talk about that?" Judy asked, one eyebrow raised. "Can't a mother praise her only daughter? Last time I checked, that wasn't a federal offense."

"You're aware of that?" Monica shot back derisively. "Because past actions prove otherwise."

"Well, of course I never flatter _you_. That would be silly." Judy explained slowly, as if to a child.

"Why not?"

"Because then you would never strive for the best. If you knew that I was pleased with everything you did, you wouldn't reach your full potential."

Monica stared at her mother, more amazed than anything else. "Mom, do you not know me _at all_? I'm all _about_ striving for the best. The other day, Joey and Chandler were having a burping contest. I drank ten cans of soda just to beat 'em! That's how far gone I am!"

Judy stifled a laugh, knowing that this wasn't the right time. "But competition isn't enough. I need to make sure you keep doing your best until - "

"Until what, Mom?" Monica interrupted. "Until I burst? Until I wear myself down? Until you're satisfied?"

"No, Monica. Until you're _the _best. Like you were always meant to be."

* * *

"What could they possibly be doing in there?" Rachel demanded, glancing at her watch for the hundredth time. The hostess and her guest of honor had locked themselves in the spare bedroom about a half hour ago, and everyone was eager to have dessert.

"Well, they're not screaming yet. That's a good sign." Chandler responded from the kitchen. Still, he reached into a draw and took out a screwdriver. Just in case.

"Unless that's because one of them killed the other," Phoebe reasoned.

Chandler put his hand over his forehead. He could feel a headache coming on. "No, Pheebs. Me, Rach, and Joey already had this discussion and would not like to have a similar one."

"I just can't believe it," Phoebe Sr. commented. "It can't be healthy for Monica to have so much anger pent up in her. I knew I should have cleansed her aura as soon as I got here."

Phoebe stared at her mother, shocked. "You do that too! Oh my God!" The two hugged.

"Aw, isn't that nice." Ross suddenly noticed Rachel standing close to the guest bedroom door. "Uh, Rach, honey, what are you doing?"

"What?" Rachel replied guiltily as she tried to hide a glass behind her back. "Nothing! Just, you know, standin' by the door…making sure Joey doesn't spike the punch…"

"Hey! I resent that!" Joey, who was also in the kitchen, yelled. He then regretfully snuck the bottle of alcohol he had been holding back in its cabinet.

Ross continued to stare at Rachel. Then it dawned on him. "Oh my God, you're eavesdropping!"

"No! I swear, I was…ok, ok, I was _eavesdropping_!" She confessed, stamping her foot. "I can't help it! Two people talking in private – I gotta know!" She then turned back to her spying, shamelessly pressing the glass against the door.

"Rachel! You can't do that! It's an invasion of privacy! If my mother and sister want to talk amongst themselves, they…" Ross trailed off, realizing something. _They could be talking about me!_ Without giving it another thought, he went over Rachel and copied her position.

Smiling at him, Rachel congratulated, "Welcome to the dark side, Ross. How does it feel?"

Ross was about to retort, then mulled it over for about a second. "Oddly satisfying!"

"That is pathetic." Joey shook his head. "Two grown adults using the old hand trick. Everyone knows you're supposed to use a glass!" He grabbed three glasses from the cupboard, walked over to the bedroom door. He handed two of the glasses to grateful Ross and Rachel, and then proceeded to listen in.

"Oh, come on!" Chandler exclaimed. "Monica and Mrs. Geller deserve a little privacy! After all the hell Monica went through this weekend, she should be able to battle it out with her mother without an audience! I mean, how would _you_ feel if you knew if the most important conversation of your life was…" Chandler abruptly stopped talking when he saw that no one was paying attention to him. They were all crowded around the door, glasses to their ears. Even Sandra and Nora hand joined them. Hanging his head in defeat, he sauntered over to the buffet table to get a glass.

* * *

"'Like I was always _meant_ to be?'" Monica mimicked, tweaking her voice so that it remotely resembled that of her mother. "If you start shooting out words like 'destiny' and 'prophecy' I'm out of here."

"No, not that way…" Judy sighed as she sat down at the foot of the bed, now only used the rare times that the Bings had overnight company. "It's just…your father and I…we always had such high hopes for you - "

"Gee, I'm sorry I let you down," Monica remarked sarcastically.

"Don't interrupt dear; it doesn't become you." Judy ignored the eye roll she received and continued. "Anyway, ever since you were little, we knew you were going to make it in life. You were determined, hard working, and caught every curve ball that came your way. You're a fighter, Monica, you always were."

"Ha, yeah right." Monica folded her arms across her chest, still standing by the door. "Then why do you love Ross more than me?"

At that, Judy's eyes widened with shock, unable to comprehend that her daughter would ever think such a thing. "Monica, it's amazing how you're so full of absurd ideas today. We love you just as much as we love Ross, maybe even more. But don't tell him I said that."

"Oh, come on Mom. All my life you've favored Ross over me. When we were kids, he would always get the last lollipop. My curfew was _a lot_ earlier than his than when he was that age. Even now, every little thing he does helps him keep his title as 'the perfect one.' Meanwhile, I compliment you on your earrings, and you say how my ears are too small for my head!" Monica's voice was rising again, but she made a conscious effort to keep it down. No need to rile everyone at the party outside.

Judy waved her hand, as if dismissing her arguments. "Please, Monica. You know how low your brother's self esteem is. He isn't strong-minded like you, which we realized from the beginning. He doesn't stick things out until they go his way. I mean, sure, he's stubborn, but he's never willing to do more than yell. We've babied him because he constantly needs to know that we approve of every little choice he makes." Judy paused, then added, "Oh, and about your curfew, that's because Ross never needed one. You had much more of a life than him, what with Rachel being so popular and all. I only gave him a later curfew so he could brag bout it to his little friends in the music club."

_Oh, wait 'till Ross hears this, Mr. "I'm sure they love you too,"_ Monica thought happily. It wasn't just that, though. It was kind of nice to know that after believing the contrary all these years, their parents secretly thought very highly of her. "So, the reason you never criticize him is because he's too much of a wimp to take it?"

"Well, I wouldn't use those words exactly, but basically yes." Judy smiled, glad to have this deep-rooted misunderstanding cleared up. "He would crumble if he wasn't sure of our support. You, on the other hand, only get stronger. For instance, let's say that…" Judy glanced around the room, searching for an example. "…I felt that you should have more furniture in your guest room. I would make a comment about it. You would get annoyed, but as always, you would hide it. And, as much as you don't like the idea, you would realize I was right and follow my advice. If I ever said something like that to Ross, he would make a big stink over it and not talk to me for a week."

Monica processed this for a minute. "So all those insults and snide remarks…that was your way of trying to make my life better?" When Judy nodded slowly, Monica went over, sat next to her mother, and hugged her. "Thanks, Mom. I guess deep down I always knew that you never wanted to hurt my feelings."

"Of course, dear." Judy smiled and hugged her back. "I'm very sorry you felt that way. If you hadn't, maybe we would have more of a relationship."

"Yeah, it's a shame. But we're never going to have 'more of a relationship' unless you start trying to make my life better a little less often."

Judy didn't get it at first. Then it clicked. "I'll try, but don't expect a miracle."

* * *

"They're coming!" Nora shrieked, a tad too loudly. They all could hear footsteps getting close and closer to the door. They reached it too fast – the door was opened, and the entire party fell in, almost toppling a stunned Monica and Judy.

"And I tried so hard to keep my voice down!" Monica complained, although she must admit, she wasn't surprised. At least, that her _friends_ were listening. She was slightly taken aback to see Mrs. Green and Mrs. Bing with empty glasses in their hands.

Judy had a similar reaction. Moving further into the living room, she chided, "Don't you people have any sense of dignity?" She resisted the temptation to roll her eyes when "No"s and "Not really"s came from the crowd.

"We couldn't help it!" Joey whined as the others put their glasses back on the buffet table. "We wanted dessert!"

"Oh my God I'm so sorry!" Monica panicked, then turned to her mother, expecting her to say something. She was pleasantly surprised when the older woman kept her mouth shut. "I made dessert already – I'll get it now." Monica went to go into the kitchen, but hesitated. She gave her mother a fierce hug, tears suddenly forming in her eyes. Quickly wiping them away, she practically ran into the kitchen, Rachel and Phoebe on her tail, demanding to know details.

"Well, Ross, looks like we have a bet to settle." Chandler smiled smugly as he wandered over to Ross, who was watching the scene from his seat in the easy chair.

"What, uh, makes you say that?" Ross said nervously. He hated losing, especially when it came to bets.

Chandler crouched down so he was the same height as Ross. "You see what just happened? Monica, who we both know freakishly well, just hugged her mother. Not one of those, 'hi, great to see you' hugs. No no no, my friend. Her eyes were glistening, which means that that hug came from pure love, which is not something they shared at the beginning of this party, correct?"

Ross knew he was beat, but stalled. "Oh, now wait a minute, she could have…eaten really spicy food…"

"Come on, what else could they have been talking about for over ten minutes!" Chandler exclaimed, yet still making sure his voice was a whisper. "Face it – I win, you lose, now pay up!" Groaning, Ross pulled a twenty out of his pocket and forked it over. Smiling, Chandler said, "My wallet and I thank you." Ross only grunted in response.

"Dessert's out everyone!" Monica's call reached all corners of the living room. "I have an apple pie, lemon meringue, and homemade chocolate chip cookies."

Instantly forgetting the bet, Ross and Chandler dashed to the kitchen, but were still beat by Joey. That is, until the group started to seat themselves around the table. Both did not fail to notice Judy staring at Monica while she was cutting the apple pie. "Sweetie, you really should tie your hair back while serving food. It's so unmanageable that a strand or two might fall into the pie."

Chandler's anguished face matched his wife's as he grudgingly took out his wallet.

THE END

* * *

A/N: It's over! _Does "I actually finished a story dance"_ Here's the last review response! Thank you SO much to all of my reviewers!

Oh, and some were mentioning the lack of Ross and Rachel action. Please remember that that was only a side plot. This story was mainly about Monica's relationship with her mother. I am sorry if youwere disappointed, but that's the way I decided to go.

Emma: In the immortal words of Stephanie Tanner (Full House): How rude! It is not polite to guilt trip others and advertising a story in a review of someone else's work. I appreciate all of the nice comments, but please, recruit readers on your own time.

MinnieLover: He he, don't worry about it. I'm sure you'll do great.

Rachgreengeller: Yeah, me too. That's exactly why I wrote this story. Thanks for all the great reviews!

Exintaris: Lol, Mrs. Bing is, too put it mildly, a bit eccentric.

Special (and many) thanks to all of my other reviewers! _Takes a REALLY deep breath_ DrKerryWeaver, Steph, LilMondlerLuver, LucyGoose, americnxidiot, miss jasadin, and Jayne Leigh


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